Untitled Halloween Fic
by Niu Shiy-Ue
Summary: 3x4 A tale of obsession past death


_Untitled_  
  
AC 427  
  
Humanity has colonies on or around all of the inner planets of the solar system, including Europa and Io. The next big jump is Saturn. With 9 out of every 10 people colony born, the Earth has become a memorial as the birthplace of human kind. Only the richest individuals and families live there and most of the planet has been designated as a reserve/museum.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Yo, Kadir, wait up!" Deuteronomy shouted as he chased his friend over the former Saudi Arabian dunes.  
  
"Hurry up yourself, 'Nomy!" Kadir called back. "We need to find shelter before the sandstorm starts, or we'll never find each other after!"  
  
Kadir Rababah Al'Winar was the only child and heir to Iria IV Al'Winar. They closely resembled each other, both being blonde-haired, sea- eyed, short, delicate and downright angelic in appearance (although anyone who had ever faced them during business negotiations would swear they both were demons from Hell). The Al'Winar or Winner as most of the Anglicized world knows them, were the most prosperous colonial family and had been since the war of AC195. They were also the most eccentric. One tradition was for the main line to always keep the name of Al'Winar, whichever spouse married into the line would have to change his or her name and all the children would be Al'Winar as well. Another of the traditions was that the heir was always the youngest child of the head, irregardless of sex. Inheritance never passed to any of the side branches, should the head be unmarried, he or she was cloned and the clone was raised as the heir. It was occasionally whispered that this dated back to the first Iria, who was unmarried and whose son Rahman was suspected of having been the clone of her dead brother.  
  
His best friend was Deuteronomy Maxwell-Schebeiker. Deuteronomy was quite a sight. His hair, which even when braided hit his feet, was the same deep midnight blue shade as his eyes. Contrasted with his almost dead white skin and fondness for black clothes, he looked like an extremely cheerful and animated corpse. Nomy, as he was usually called, and his family (his twin sisters Renata and Rosemarie, his older brother Solomon, his mother Irmhilde and his father Tyr) were direct descendants of the famous Gundam Pilot Duo Maxwell and his wife Hilde Schebeiker, this was probably the only reason the two of them had ever met.  
  
Every year, 'round Christmas time, the heads of the Darlian and occasionally of the Noin political families (or as Nomy said, political cartels) would host a party to invite all the descendants of the Gundam pilots together. It wasn't entirely successful, it seemed that every other year either the Maxwell-Schebeikers or the L5 Changs would be boycotting, or there would be an argument over whether to invite the Winners (all descendants of Quatre Winner's various sisters or the Magaunacs who had served him) and they had never yet gotten any descendants of either Trowa Barton or his sister Cathy Bloom to step forward and join them. However it was at one of these parties that Kadir had met the less affluent Nomy and they had immediately hit it off.  
  
But that had nothing to do with the situation they were in. It was mid-October and the two of them had been on a nature hike in the desert. The satellites had all been clear when they started so they weren't prepared for the storm. Had Kadir, who had been taught desert survival since before he could walk, been alone, he wouldn't have been worried. He would have just hunkered down and waited out the storm. Nomy wasn't used to this though. In this weather they would lose track of each other, and that would spell doom for Nomy. Not only would he be lost without his guide, but Kadir had the GPS. They needed to get to shelter and fast.  
  
"Look over there" Kadir shouted into the howling wind. "I see a bluff!" Nomy just nodded and they made their way over to it. "We need to get to the leeward side!"  
  
When they got to the leeside of the outcrop of rocks though, they were in for a shock. In the shelter of the rocks was an oasis, one that Kadir had no prior knowledge of. It seemed so calm and tranquil; they would have never known there was a sandstorm outside if they hadn't just escaped it. Finally, by the oasis was a grand house, a small manor of a design older than the current fashion. "Well", said Kadir. "I wonder if anyone's home?"  
  
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Nomy didn't like the looks of this house. It gave him a feeling like those catacombs in Paris did on his only other trip to the earth, as if this was a sacred place, a place for the dead. Not that the mansion looked like all those haunted houses in the movies, but it sure felt like it. And now Kadir just wanted to waltz up and knock on the door?!?  
  
"Eh, Kat, why don't we just wait here for the storm to blow over? I mean, I know we can't be picked up because of the wind and sand, but-"  
  
"That could take days Nomy. I don't want to risk our supplies; besides you look really shaken up over it. We'll just knock; if it's abandoned at least we'll have better shelter than just our tents."  
  
"Well, I don't know, I mean, whoever lives out here would obviously want their privacy, they might force us back into the storm at shotgun point." But Kadir had already gone up and rapped sharply on the door. To his surprise the door opened almost immediately revealing a tall, imposing man. "Uh, h-hello" Kadir stammered. "My friend and I, well, we were caught up in a sandstorm, and, um, wondered if we could take s-shelter in your h-house." Kadir never stuttered, and if it wasn't for the fact that Nomy was about to faint from sheer terror he would have laughed.  
  
"Of course" a smooth baritone replied. "The storms here can be very fierce and go on for whole weeks, it would be inhuman to expect someone to whether them unprotected." Nomy was surprised. He hadn't expected this man to be friendly; he had expected his shotgun scenario when he saw him. "Please come in."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The mansion was gorgeous.  
  
Pale golden wood, creamy walls, stained glass windows, all set off with deeper sapphire and emerald toned draperies, carpets and upholstery. Even in the dim light, the glass ornaments and carefully polished wood and brass shone. "Wow" breathed Kadir. "Where are we?"  
  
"The Gundam Memorial Museum." Nomy now got a good look at their host. Tall, 6'1-6'3 maybe, thin but muscular (as advertised by the tight black turtleneck), tanned with auburn hair that fell over one forest eye, wearing a pair of black leather pants that looked to be painted on. All in all, he was what Nomy's sister Renata would have termed a stud.  
  
"Oh, I heard that the Museum was in Arabia, but I never knew where." Kadir snapped his fingers. "I kept forgetting to ask Iria."  
  
"You must be Iria Al'Winar's son Kadir then. The two of you resemble each other." The man shifted his grip on a small package, but did not offer his hand. "I'm the curator of the museum. You can call me Trowa Barton."  
  
"Oy!" There was a name Nomy remembered. "Trowa Barton as in the Gundam pilot?"  
  
"I took my name from him, yes." Green eyes, or rather green eye, shifted from Kadir to look at Nomy. "And your friend?"  
  
"Excuse my manners." Kadir certainly seemed to be calming down quickly. "This is Deuteronomy Maxwell-Schebeiker."  
  
"Hiiiiii!!!! Man, this place is so cool. Canya tell us about the Gundam pilots? Culja, pleeese?" When in doubt, act like a lunatic.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Trowa Barton was actually quite amiable to a tour and obviously knew the history of the AC195 war intimately. The museum was actually much larger than first appearances suggested too. The top floor was reserved for the curator's personal quarters, but the museum filled the rest of the house. Finally he took them into an underground bunker where they received the nicest shock of all.  
  
"Are these the Gundams?" Nomy asked reverently. He couldn't believe his eyes.  
  
"Unfortunately no. The originals were destroyed after the Christmas Day incident involving Marimeia Barton Kushrenada. These replicas were created in AC 295 to commemorate the Centennial celebration of the peace between the Earth and the original LeGrange Colonies." He walked over to a small plaque on the wall. "If you want a real treat, come over here." They followed instantly.  
  
There on the wall was a small photograph. Trowa Barton carefully took it off and handed it to them. "Those are your ancestors." he said. Pointing to each in turn. "The one with green hair and tank top is Hiiro Yuy, who was later known as Odin Lowe Jr. The blonde hanging on his arm is Relena Dorlian. The two standing behind them are Relena's older brother Zechs Merquise aka Milliardo Peacecraft and his wife Lucrezia. The Asian man is Chang Wufei and the woman standing next to him is Sally Po."  
  
Nomy peered at the picture excitedly. "Where are my great- grandparents? Which ones are Hilde and Duo?"  
  
He pointed to a violet eyed man dressed in black and a short dark haired woman. "Hey Nomy, Duo has a braid just like you."  
  
"Yeah, but I look more like Hilde than I do Duo."  
  
Trowa shifted and pointed to a blonde woman with short hair who was in a wheelchair by the central figures. "That's Iria I. The redhead in her lap is Marimeia Kushrenada."  
  
"Hey" Nomy stated. "This man, the one in the black tux, looks just like you. And the blonde looks like Kadir. Except he's older, has longer hair and glasses." He looked up at the curator. "That's Trowa Barton."  
  
Nomy looked back down. "The resemblance is disturbing. Are your related somehow?"  
  
"I'm a descendant of his sister Cathy Bloom." Nomy looked at him suspiciously. "The name happens to be a matter of coincidence. Trowa Barton never had any children."  
  
"It looks like a wedding." Kadir noted. "But who is getting married?"  
  
"Quatre . . . and Trowa."  
  
"They were homosexuals?" Nomy hadn't known that. "I guess that explains why neither of them had any kids."  
  
"That and the fact that Quatre Winner died at the age of 29, in a car accident. He might have used one of the famous Winner gene labs otherwise to create an heir."  
  
"That's how a lot of Al'Winar scions are made today." Nomy cursed quietly, wishing that Kadir wasn't so helpful. There was something, when this Trowa Barton had been talking about the death of Winner, that didn't sit right with him. "Y'know something bothers me." Barton raised an eyebrow. "How come I've never heard of Cathy Bloom's descendants till I met you? Or of the Gundam Memorial Museum? And how does this place support itself, since apparently no one comes out to the middle of nowhere just to visit a museum?"  
  
"There haven't been a lot of Bloom descendants at all, usually only one or two per generation. I'm the only one living currently. And this place is supported by the Winners, since this used to be Quatre's home."  
  
"Still . . ."  
  
"He's right, Nomy." Kadir interceded at this point. "I remember Iria saying that a Bloom descendant has always been the curator of the museum. But apparently their very private individuals, since they've never yet accepted an invitation from the Dorlians."  
  
Nomy shook his head. Something about this still didn't add up, but he decided to put it aside for now. "Anyway, what happened to the original Trowa Barton? Everyone knows about the car crash that killed Winner, and the bombing that took out Yuy and Darlian. I even know that Catalonia died of cancer at age 42 and that Merquise and Noin lived to the ripe old 90s. But I've never learned what happened to Barton. Do you know?"  
  
He looked away. "The two of you must be tired from the storm. I already have supper prepared and it's enough for three. Then I'll show you two to your rooms."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nomy frowned. Dinner had been awfully quiet, and Barton hadn't given out any more information about himself. They'd engaged in trivial conversation, philosophy and other topics of mutual interest. It had come to light that both Barton and Kat were musicians, although Barton only played the flute, while Kat played a variety of instruments. But no other information about Barton, his family, his opinions and reasons for living here were all still enigmas. Kat, on the other hand, seemed to be a bit too trustful of their host, talking effusively about his zillion cousins, the business affairs of the Winners and everything else under the sun.  
  
Nomy still didn't trust this Barton. For safety's sake he had wanted to sleep in the same room as Kat, just in case the guy tried something, but he had been placed in the room across from him and he hadn't wanted to make a fuss at the time, to allay the man's suspicion. Now that it was late, he was reconsidering that decision, wishing he had stood his ground and stayed with Kat. The feeling of foreboding he had experienced when first setting eyes on this manse had only increased as the evening went on, and now would not let him sleep.  
  
*THUMP!*  
  
He sat up. ~What was that?~ For about a minute he waited with baited breath for the sounds to repeat themselves. ~Must have been my imagination~ he thought, shaking his head. ~I'm too nervous~. He reached out to the carafe of water by the bedside table and poured himself a glass. Downing it in one gulp, he immediately saw his vision go blurry. ~What the . . . I've been drugged!~ was all he had time to think before his entire world went black.  
  
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For a half minute after coming to, Nomy was too fuzzy headed to comprehend what had happened. Then he snapped to full awareness, realizing he had been strapped to a cold metal table in an unknown room. After struggling mightily for a few minutes, he realized that there was no way he was going to get loose and he began looking around. He was in what appeared to be a cross between a study and a bedroom. There was a mid sized bed pushed against the wall on his right, where his friend Kadir rested on green satin sheets. Kadir was still asleep, the only good thing that Nomy could see about this situation, although it might have been better if he was awake. Then at least they would have a passing chance of getting out of this madman's grip alive.  
  
The left wall was covered in bookshelves. About a foot to the front of them was a small display case, with a blue velvet stand under the glass cube. The case was empty.  
  
Finally Nomy looked directly in front of him and felt a chill go through his blood. Sitting in a chair directly in front of him was Trowa Barton. In his lap he held a small porcelain doll. The doll had bright blonde hair, glassy blue eyes and was dressed in khaki pants, a pale rose shirt and a violet vest. It looked like a miniature version of Kadir. Behind Barton was the door to the room, but even more shocking was that the wall was covered in pictures. Young men and women, mostly blonde but some red, brown and black haired people among them, all with bright blue eyes and angelic features, taken in various poses. Towards the bottom he saw the portrait of Iria IV, in navy blue business suit, sitting at her desk. "I see your admiring my collection."  
  
Nomy licked dry lips. "Wh-who are they?"  
  
Barton got up. "They're the various heads of the Al'Winar family. Up there" He pointed to a picture of a blonde haired woman in a wheel chair, dressed in a white coat. "Is Iria I. Beside her" The next picture was of a young man with flyaway bright red hair. He was sitting behind a chess board and had a deep blue shirt on. "Is Rahman. And so on down to" He pointed to Iria IV. "The current head, Iria IV."  
  
Nomy had finally gotten his courage up. "What the hell are you doing!"  
  
"Taking back what's mine." Barton walked over to Kadir.  
  
"What do you mean? Who are you?" Barton paused and turned to him. "You mean you can't guess? And you were the one who recognized the resemblance this afternoon."  
  
Nomy didn't want to believe what his mind was telling him. But when the impossible has been ruled out, what remains, no matter how improbable must be true. "You're Trowa Barton. The original." The other merely nodded. "That can't be! You've got to be mad; it's been over two hundred years since the Gundam Wars! You can't be the original Trowa Barton!"  
  
"Maxwell and Schebeiker named their first twins Solo and Helen after the nun who took care of Duo at the Maxwell church, and one of Maxwell's childhood friends who died. Catalonia didn't die of pancreatic cancer but a brain tumor and she was 44, not 42. Zechs died exactly 6 months after Noin. Chang Wufei was originally married to Long Meilin before the original L5 colony was destroyed. Yuy didn't know what his real name was, he choose Odin Lowe Jr. to honor the assassin who had raised him. The scientists who originally choose the pilots died crashing Peacemillion into Libra, they were not later executed for war crimes. Merquise and Darlian were brother and sister, originally Prince and Princess Peacecraft of the Sanq Kingdom." Nomy didn't know what to say, those were all later speculations that the originals had never confirmed. Who would know the truth to them? "If you are the real Trowa Barton, how have you managed to survive this long?"  
  
Barton crossed the room to the bookshelves. "Ever since the industrial revolution, people have dismissed folklore as merely being nonsensical superstition. They don't believe in magic anymore and that is a great mistake." He brushed his fingers across the books. "The first Iria didn't believe me. I told her that she could have her beloved brother back, mind and heart; I only needed a body to clothe the soul. But she feared the implications of what I told her, and ruined my plans. That traitor took the clone and contaminated it, mixing Catalonia's, Kushrenada's and her own DNA with the sample rendering the clone useless to my purpose. That clone became Rahman, her so called son. But what she didn't realize is that I could wait a long time." He turned to look at Nomy. "A very long time."  
  
Nomy swallowed. Something about Barton's confidence shook him, and convinced him that he was telling the truth. As much as his mind screamed that it couldn't be true, his heart said otherwise. After all, no one had believed in Newtypes until about 50 years ago, so why couldn't other supernatural phenomena be just as real. "B-but what are you? How can you do all these things?"  
  
"I'm a necromancer."  
  
"A necromancer? Then why are you doing this? Couldn't you just call up Quatre's spirit from the wherever that people go when they die? What do you need us for?"  
  
Barton had crossed back to the bed and was fingering Kadir's hair. "Yes I could, but what would be the point of that? What use is loving a bodiless spirit or some moldering zombie? I need a living body for the soul to inhabit." He looked up. "I originally intended to use the clone but Iria, thwarted that plan. I had to wait for all the different factors to fall into place." He cradled the porcelain doll he carried. "With the loss of the clone I needed a temporary shelter to house the soul while I waited. Catalonia's gift came in handy. To think the woman who almost killed the one I loved now lent aid in keeping him alive."  
  
Nomy stared at the doll. Was that a flicker in its eyes just a reflection of the light, or something more? He shook away that disturbing thought and said, "Factors?"  
  
"A time when the soul could easily be stripped from a body and replaced. A living body similar to the original for the soul to inhabit. Another to donate their life energy to ease the process." Nomy felt a chill run through him. Now he knew what they were needed for. Kadir would serve as the body for his ultimate ancestor. He would be drained of his life to facilitate this horrible deed. "How will you-"  
  
"Even today, foolish travelers of the desert still occasionally turn up dead. Your desiccated body will merely be another of those. Kadir will show the necessary grief and contrition, and his helpful savior will be there to help him in his time of mourning." Placing the doll back on the velvet stand he made his way over to the table where Nomy was strapped. "Now though, I'm afraid I've wasted too much time in idle chit-chat. Be comforted by the fact that you're helping someone live out the life that was cut short."  
  
A million denials rose to his lips, of the wrongness of what Barton was doing, the madness he was allowing to rule him, the uncertainty of his future with his so-called love but they all faded away as Barton placed his hand on his forehead and the world was consumed by darkness. 


End file.
